What Makes an Inquisitor? 2
by Col.Foley
Summary: Benjamin Trevelyan, Circle Mage, is called in under mysterious circumstances halfway across Thedas by a Knight Commander. On the eve of revolution, his story begins.
1. Arrival in Nevarra

_Nevarra_

Benjamin Trevelyan sat on top of his horse, eyes downcast underneath his hood staring at the ground along with the saddle and neckline of his horse. It stopped suddenly coming up short, grounding to a halt. All on its own, as if by some intuition it decided it had reached their destination.

Benjamin twisted his head around and peered up, the sun light he had been avoiding for the last several hours making him squint, as he had indeed reached his proper destination. The Circle tower in Nevarra struck out of the ground, towering above the plains around it like a particular rude gesture. Its blackness and sleek construction more of a blight on the land than anything else.

A single guard shack barred his way between the path he was on, and the entrance to the tower itself. A small building with just space enough for one bored guard.

_The Templars probably figure if there is a rebellion then it will be from within and the mages would have to fight through level upon level of them to escape to the outside world. _After all the goal of the Circle was really to keep someone _in_ and not out. Most mages, even the most powerful and daring of Maelificar, would not blithely walk up to a Circle tower unless they had a very good reason.

_Like me_. Ben reflected.

The local Knight Commander had invited him here on unknown business, failing to elaborate on the purposes for the summons. But, it was an excuse to get out of his own tower, and the Knight Commander had graciously accepted his fellow's request. Not even bothering to send along a Templar escort _that is how much I am respected_, Ben thought blearily.

He kicked his horse gently in the side, "Come on, just a little bit further."

It whined slightly before breaking into a small trot. Marching right up to the guard shack and towering over it.

The Templar noticed, his uniform indicating his rank as a Knight Lieutenant, and sneered up at him.

The expression was instantly off putting for the enchanter sitting on his horse, looking down on the man. The mage probably had more power than the Templar before him, had the advantage in height due to his horse, and the Templar was all alone which technically made _him_ outnumbered between Ben and his rented mare, but yet, it was _he_ who was sneering arrogantly, confidently.

_I just hope the rest of my trip here is at least slightly more enjoyable_.

"What do you want?" The Templar finally asked thickly.

Benjamin lowered his hood showing his sandy brown hair, and piercing blue eyes, his hand dove into his pocket fishing for his pass.

He found it, and shoved it over to the Templar, "I am Benjamin Trevelyan, from the Circle in Ferelden, here to see the Knight Commander on a matter of importance. He requested me to travel here, and my Knight Commander agreed."

"I see," The man said looking it over, with exaggerated closeness. "All seems to be in order," He said finally shoving the parcel over.

Ben took it and shoved it back into his pocket where it belonged.

"You may pass," The Templar yawned, bored, as he rose the gate automatically, almost robotically.

Ben looked back at him curiously for a few seconds as his horse trotted forward, climbing right up to the edge of the tower itself. A score of black steps led up to the tower, where two Templars were standing guard. One of them was coming down, unalarmed, obviously having seen the exchange at the gate.

"Ser Mage," He said stepping up next to the Horse, "may I take your horse?"

"You may," Benjamin smiled, nodded, and then dismounted, patting his faithful steed a couple of times on its rump before marching up the stairs.

The other, much younger, Templar led the horse away, to stables that Benjamin had not noticed on his approach. The Templar's comrade tapped on the door twice as he approached, and it opened, with a great giant click, and grinding of its gears as it slowly started to swing open.

Ben clutched his staff leaning on it, waiting patiently for the door to open before him, fully and completely. He figured he could wait, that he was patient.

The door banged, and stopped, fully open, compared to the sunlight surrounding him the tower doors was a dark gaping hole in reality. Impenetrable by his sight. _It makes me nervous_. He slowly began walking, approaching the door, and marching up the steps.

Crossing the threshold his eyes instantly readjusted to the lack of light, and there was enough of it to see his surroundings. Yet another Templar guard was just inside the door, sword in a scabbard at his side, staring blankly off to space.

Ben smiled and nodded at her, friendly, the woman stared unblinkingly at the far wall.

_Ok_.

"Benjamin Trevelyan?" A voice asked causing his head to whip around.

A man stood there leaning against his own staff, far, far older then Benjamin was himself. _About three decades I figure_. Ben thought.

"Yes, what is it?"

"First Enchanter Marchand, I run the Chantry here…ahem." He cleared his throat and took a loud cough before extending his hand to Ben. Ben grasped it and shook.

Marchand waved his hand inviting Ben to fall in, the Enchanter from the Free Marches did so, both of their staffs, going tap tap tap against the marble floor.

"Knight Commander Huron expressly requested your presence," The First Enchanter explained as they began marching up the first flight of stairs.

"Do you have any idea why?" Benjamin asked, trying to wet his lips as his throat suddenly and inexplicably went dry. In theory he had nothing to worry about. Even though the Templars were cracking down to a far greater degree in recent weeks he had done nothing wrong. Before Kirkwall he wouldn't have given it a second thought.

But then Kirkwall happened. Then the walls came down. And ever since, there was tension in the air.

Less so with Benjamin preferring seclusion of his Circle's library to the bustle and hustle of the day to day population. Even in a room full of mage's.

Still, he had heard rumors. The few times he ate in the common areas, passing other mage's in the hall. Rumors, whispers, threats and murmurs. While his Circle wasn't as restrictive, he heard nasty rumors about some of the others through the Sending Stones. Though he was too busy reading to really look into it on his own.

Finally though, as they got to the third floor, the First Enchanter answered his question. "I do not know the answer…he did not consult me. But Huron, is a decent man. A lot more so then most of his officers, but he at least tries to keep the peace."

"I see, is he fair?"

"He is a Templar, with all the biases that come with the position…but…" The First Enchanter smiled, "he is fairer than most." His eyes darted around rolling over a young female elf as she nervously scampered before them. "In fact, the rumor has it that this Circle has had the fewest escape attempts out of any circle in all of Thedas. Out of all the ones loyal to the Divine in Val Royeux."

"I see," Ben said yet again.

The First Enchanter smiled grimly, "If you are worried that you are here for some form of punishment, you needn't bother, he wouldn't have sent for you, to do an assignment your own Knight Commander could have."

Ben breathed a calming sigh, feeling his muscles uncoiling slightly, he brought up a very slight smile. "I see, and thank you."

They had finally reached the second top most level of the tower. The front of the Knight Commander's office, a foyer divided it from the rest of the Circle and a simple black door was at one end.

Marchand bowed his head before hobbling off.

Ben took a moment, took a step, and knocked on the door.

"Enter, it is open." A voice called through it.

Benjamin reached out, depressed the handle, and swung it open.

Knight Commander Huron glanced up at his entrance, he held an open scroll before him that he was clearly reading it as Benjamin was entering. His features were curious at his new arrival. But they quickly split into a wide grin.

"Ah, Benjamin Trevelyan, welcome welcome!" He greeted. "Please, sit down, would you like anything? Wine? Tevinter port? Ferelden mead?"

"Uh...no thank you." Benjamin spluttered.

Knight Commander Huron was a lot younger then Benjamin would have given him credit for. His posture was straight, his back unbent by age, time, or hardship. His hair a clean and crisp sandy brown color mirroring Benjamin's own. Yet, he had a vital energy about him. Not from his Templar training, his position, or the Lyrium which gave him unnatural powers against mages, he simply felt…vibrant, alive.

Ben glanced around his office and saw that it mirrored his owner. The walls were rich and vibrant in their browns, his desk was thick and made of some sturdy oak. It was cluttered, but everything on the desk was neatly organized. All of this Benjamin took in with a sweep of his eyes.

And as he came back to his host, he realized he was being incredibly rude. Huron was staring at him with a slightly raised eyebrow looking at him. Ben gulped, and sat down.

Huron smirked lightly and took the seat opposite him, behind the desk.

"Sir, if I may, how did you know it's me?"

Huron waved the scroll he was formerly reading at Benjamin like a sword, "I have your file. Granted the picture that the Templars drew of you does not quite do you justice, the physical description is rather apt though."

"I…see." Benjamin said.

The two of them stared across the desk at one another. Templar and Mage. The oldest and bitterest of enemies, but also the best of friends, if circumstances permitted. After all, at least in theory, the Templars were supposed to protect the mages. But reality did not often match the idea, and Ben felt _uneasy_.

Being called halfway across Thedas from one Circle to another was not the best way to break bread.

"Sir…if I may…why me?"

"Why you?"

"Why have I been called here?" Ben tried again.

Huron smiled lightly and steepled his fingers while leaning back in his chair. "Because, I have read your file."

"My…file."

"Indeed," Huron nodded, "and that requires a little back story before I get to my proposal." He got up out of his chair and began pacing. "You are the perfect mage for what I have in mind. Aloof, reclusive, preferring to spend all of your time researching and reading rather than dealing with your fellows. You have few friends, few interests in women or real desires, you have no pretense to power, and you rarely get mad at your fellows and your people. The perfect candidate for my purposes. And while you currently show no real magical talent, your fellows believes you can if you put yourself forward in that area, as you do for your academic pursuits. This mission has been approved by the Divine, though some in the Templars have made certain stipulations which has led to your…recruitment, should you chose to accept it."

"And, what is the mission?" Benjamin asked, semi interrupting the Knight Commander mid speech.

Huron glared at him, "Things have been tense after Kirkwall. An entire city almost entirely destroyed because of what one mage set in motion. Both sides, both mages and Templars…to say nothing of the common citizenry, is upping the anty. Several people believe that Civil War is inevitable, others believe we Templars should deal with the problem now, before it grows out of control and neutralize all mages by any means necessary."

"I don't believe that," Benjamin said.

"No, you are an Aquetarian, you wouldn't." Huron said, sitting back down.

"Forgive me Commander, but I fail to see how I might help. I am still young, by mage standards, and not even a Senior Enchanter. I recognize the problem, but there seems to be little I can do about it."

Huron smiled, "It is my intention to create a new brand of Mages, based on certain recent theories and publications. These mages will join with the Templar Order in order to hunt down Maelificarum and other magical threats to the people's safety. This will allow mages to be seen by the people helping them, serving them. Not abominations, not dusty old men. But actually interacting with them…hopefully, maybe, this will lead to integration."

Ben's eyes widened, "Are you serious?"

Huron smirked, "Very."

"I can't believe anyone of your order would go along with this…scheme. Even if you wanted them to."

Huron nodded, "Yes, all of this is theoretical, another reason I wanted you, you can investigate the theory, make it better, come up with your own ideas on the subject…improve upon my original template. But many of the Knight Commanders have expressed much…skepticism. Lord Seeker Lambert in particular thinks this is a waste of time, but, he has given me full discretion in this regard. However, the idea does seem to have the support from Justina herself."

Ben blinked rapidly, "I see…"

Huron smiled lightly, "My motives are not entirely selfless. With our dependence on Lyrium we are destined, to a man and woman, to become a drooling, crazed, people. We have dependency on the Dwarves for our very livelihood, the Dwarves themselves are under constant siege by the Darkspawn…and we have no way of knowing how infinite this supply is. I doubt my idea will eliminate this dependence, the Templar Order will still be needed to deal with a great many problems…but if we can lessen the dependence, I feel it will be worth it."

Benjamin nodded, leaned back in his chair, and steepled his fingers, "I certainly see your logic. Though I am still not certain I am your man."

"Neither am I," Huron shrugged, "But you are the best I have. And, reading your file, you may be good enough. It's just you are young and inexperienced. But, that could also be an advantage."

"I see, and it doesn't hurt that I am a devout Andrastian I suppose."

"No, it doesn't. Will you take on the assignment?" Huron asked.

Benjamin thought about it lightly, chewing on his lower lip, deep in thought, weighing the pros and the cons.

_On the one hand I may not know a lot about what he hopes I know, but on the other hand it is an excuse to not go back to my local circle. _

"I'll do it." Benjamin said.

Huron's face split into a wide grin, "Excellent." He snapped his finger, a door behind him opened and two other Templars came through the door carrying stacks and tomes of paper and scrolls.

Benjamin couldn't help but feel a slight spike of alarm, _no, calm, patience, they aren't here to harm you, they are just servants of the Maker_. _Just like you are._

The two Templars dropped the tomes on the desk in front of him.

"These are texts I think you might find helpful, texts on magical theory and combat. Templar dissertations on combatting dangerous mages. Several recent magical experiments on a new order of Chantry Mages. And, personnel files of several Circle Mages here…from most of the fraternities…who I believe could make suitable candidates for eventual training and integration. I expect a full report on your progress within the month."

"Yes Commander," Benjamin said getting up.

"Good, and while I know you like your solitude…get out there…mingle…try getting to know the other mages of the tower. If you can. This is not an order, but it is highly recommended given the circumstances."

"Yes sir,"

"And lighten up."

"Sir." He said, nodding.


	2. Training Day

_Circle of Magi Courtyard_

Benjamin Trevelyan looked up at the tower towering above him. Under certain special circumstances, when there was no sign of rebellion or the mages were acting calm and docile the Templars would let them eat outside the walls of the tower itself. In a courtyard surrounded by a stone fence.

_In other words a gilded cage_. Benjamin thought munching on his sandwich.

Guards still patrolled the perimeter, towers still watched them, and there was little they could do to escape from the premises of the tower itself. Yet the air was fresh and the environment lovely. He could look into the distance and see a few peaks towering out of the ground. The same ones he crossed to get here.

_It was good to be outside_. Ben thought.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when a woman slammed a large tray quite audibly down on the table he was sitting at. Even though his heart leapt at the action he showed no other outside sign he was disturbed.

Instead he continued his appraisal of their small courtyard.

"Ahem," A feminine voice cleared its throat dramatically.

Ben's eyes narrowed but he didn't look at the woman.

"Hello? Normally when a beautiful woman sits down boldly with a young…lonely…man he pays attention to her."

Ben's head snapped around before he could stop himself. And he was met with a curious stare from his new lunch companion. Her face split into a warm smile when she saw him looking.

"There, that's better isn't it?"

He sighed, "Sorry, I am not exactly used to chatting with…beautiful women."

And she was too, her features were sharp, and blunt, yet they had a certain predatory quality to them. Her raven black hair was tied up in a semi bun, though a few loose strands hung from her head down across her forehead.

"There, that's better."

He nodded, and extended a hand, sticking out from his robes and causing the cuff to ripple slightly, "Benjamin."

"Patricia," She smiled extending her own hand and taking his.

"So Patricia, what are you doing coming here and joining a man, fresh off his horse?"

"Because," She hesitated, "You are the new mage. Here. And yet you are not an apostate or a blood mage. You did not escape from your Circle, nor are you a trouble maker. Yet, you have been called to a new Circle, in a new country. Such things do not happen, often. They are quite rare in fact. Once in a Circle, never out. So the rumor goes…unless…"

"You are a blood mage." Benjamin finished the thought.

"And there are rumors spreading about why you are here."

"Rumors?" Benjamin asked, frowning, an uncomfortable feeling settling into the pit of his stomach.

"Yep," She nodded excitedly, "some people think you are here because you have been hunting blood mages and the Knight Commander wants to receive your report, others think that you are about to betray a secret mage cabal which was trying to escape from the Chantry…and some think you are here to build a secret Templar army."

Benjamin gulped the last bit of his food quite roughly, choked, and brought up a small smile to cover it. But, his lunch companion didn't look convinced.

"So, Patricia, what brings a nice girl like you to a place like this?" He asked, rallying himself to try and make one more question of it.

She frowned, "The Templars of course," She said darkly.

"Ah," Ben blanched, "sorry about that."

"Its ok," She smiled. But her eyes were still studying him carefully.

He sighed, "I suppose it will get out eventually but I am…well not training a secret Templar army, but I am here as maybe the first member of a new breed of Templars. Templar mages who will help hunt down threats to the normal peoples of Thedas."

She scoffed, "The 'normal' peoples of Thedas."

"Non mages."

"I know what the term means," She snapped, "I am just surprised to hear another mage use it."

Benjamin murmured nonsense.

"So, you want to help them hunt down our brothers?" She challenged.

"It's not as simple as that," Ben shrugged, "they want…well Knight Commander Huron wants…to take mages and reintroduce them to society. Get them used to us again. Reintegrate us."

She sniffed, "So, we should grovel for their approval?"

"No," He said, "but think of it, if we can prove ourselves, prove ourselves innocent for them."

She closed her eyes and sighed, "I'm sorry. After being trapped here most of my life…it's difficult to…not feel bitter. At people, or the Templars. We know we are normal."

"Yes, _we_ do." He replied, a shadow darkened over them and they looked up to see a Templar cross their table, trying hard not to look at them but Ben had the nasty feeling their argument had drawn his attention.

Ben and Patricia waited for him to pass.

"I get it," He acknowledged, "I share similar sentiments. But violence is certainly not the answer, I do not even think dissolving the Circle is the answer. Escalating a bad situation is not the answer either. I doubt there really is an answer, but as much as we may not like it…especially after Kirkwall…any escalation on our part will be seen as Mages trying to take over again, just like the good old days. It's a delicate situation."

"So you do not want independence?" She asked, her eyes widening in shock.

"I _want_ independence, I want freedom as much as the next mage," he went and looked out over the grounds, staring off into the distance, "I want to explore, to see the world, to breathe the air, maybe occasionally practice my magic and do good. Open a shop somewhere, spend my days in quiet meditation, without people pressing into me all the time. But, I also do not want to be burned down by an angry mob. And I do not want to have to defend myself out of petty prejudice and misunderstanding. Killing, how many people, dozens, hundreds, thousands? Simply because they do not understand."

"Then we will make them understand?" Patricia asked.

"Perhaps," Ben shrugged, "that is why I feel Knight Commander Huron's proposal has merit."

She nodded, and slowly finished her meal. Ben crouched to his and also slowly started to finish it up.

A thought occurred to him, "Patricia, what is your last name?"

"Patricia McAllen, why?"

He gulped hard again, "You are on my list."

"List?" She asked cocking her head puzzled.

He leaned back in his chair, letting his stew get cold in the process, _but, I probably wasn't going to finish it anyway_. He nodded, "Since I got here I have been looking over several candidates I think would make good…Knight Enchanters. Spending hours in the library, to the wee hours of the morning, looking people up. As well as studying magical theory on the subject. Yours is, about third on the list."

She cocked an eyebrow, "I am not sure this is a good idea."

He smirked, "And I did not know that when I read the information on you. However, you are young, powerful, passed your harrowing with flying colors, and already have shown an interest in…this sort of thing. And given your apparent lack of interest in the Spirit Realm, I feel that will make the Templars are even more likely to accept you."

Her frown returned, "I am not sure I like this."

"It will be a chance to get out of the tower." He pointed out… "Eventually, assuming the rest of the Templars agree."

She snorted.

He smiled, "I know, but we need people like you, if we are to survive." He looked down at his food and his nose crinkled, "now the first meeting of this class meets tomorrow, morning, say just after first meal. I expect you there."

"And if I don't come?"

"You will," he said, "but we won't wait to start for one tardy member."

The two of them shared a look, and Ben left the table with a small nod. _I like her, perhaps a bit rough around the edges, but then again…so am I. I am just better about hiding it. _

There was little more he could do right now. He hoped it was all just bluster, and that they could see the wisdom of his plan. _All the mages_. He decided. After all, the alternative was much worse.

_Great Hall_

Benjamin was up bright and early like he had promised. He decided to hold their first meeting in the Great Hall, after all, the Templars would likely feel nervous if they put so much magical energy with only a thin stone wall between them, and freedom.

_Yes, much safer in here, if we cause trouble we are surrounded by Templars who will rush in and kill us all_. Ben frowned.

Sunlight was filtering in through the high backed crystal windows, showing ornate artwork depicting dragons, Templars, and even a few mages. The sun was high in the sky, and it was bright, but the heat had not caught up with them yet. Still being early in the morning, and them being contained within a tower. It was comfortable, if only just.

His 'students' _for lack of a better term_ were divided on either side of the center line of the room. They stood there, four in a line, and three behind them, a small gathering, only a fraction of the circle population. Most of them were either his age, or younger, some of them having just gone through their harrowing even. Elves and humans. Only one of them was a Senior Enchanter, flecks of gray starting to pepper his hair. Yet he looked straight of back and clutched his staff, not with weakness, but with purpose.

The rest of the assembled masses looked nervous, to defiant, to belligerent, some of them were glancing from side to side, as if expecting the Templars to rain down on them at any moment.

There was an angry buzz in the air.

Benjamin decided he had waited long enough, and catching Patricia's eye, she was three rows back, on the end of the left hand of the hall. She smiled up at him. He felt his heart leap slightly, but concentrated.

"Alright, settle down." He said, his staff banged on the floor, and flashed brightly, a white light causing several of the mage's in the room to wince, "alright, settle down."

He waited a minute, the group of mages slowly obeyed him. After all he looked like a fresh faced boy, and not an old and senior mage who could command respect simply from the wisdom of the ages. _Maybe I should grow a beard_, the thought occurred to him half whimsically.

"I am sure many of you wonder why you are here, some of you, have probably heard rumors, some of those rumors might even be true." He let his words sink in. "Knight Commander Huron has asked me here to look into, and start training, a new group of mages and scholars. The purpose, will be to work alongside the Templars as they execute their duties, hunting down dangerous magical threats to the people of Thedas."

He once again looked around the room, as discreetly as he could, most of the mages were stern and impassive, but a few of the younger members their eyes widened and they darted their eyes at one another, but dared not speak.

"I know the situation is unusual," He acknowledged, once more pacing, "but it is needed. For too long we have been in the shadows. Stuck in our towers. Only mages who venture forth are under special dispensation, or dangerous Maelificarum. This is our chance to change our fate, to show the world we can be responsible citizens, and battle the true evil that threatens all of us.

Templars, Mages, Chantry lay sisters, and regular townsfolk. Together, with luck, and with the Maker with us, we will change their minds. If, for any reason this does not satisfy your morality, you may leave."

None of them even budged. Ben arched a surprised eyebrow, glanced at Patricia, and even she did not budge. He waited for several, uncomfortable, beats, waiting for someone to move. Given the popularity of the Templars, and the tension which was spreading throughout the various towers Ben thought _someone_ must have wanted to leave. Yet, no one did.

"Very well," he breathed, "now combat magic is some of the most valuable, and most practiced by Circle Mages. With the Chantry's uneasiness over Spirits, Spirit Healers, and other forms of magic being long lost, it is sometimes difficult to do any form of magic _but_ these. Casting bolts of magic, flinging balls of lightning, or summoning wreaths of flame.

"But, these techniques are often incapable of battling the magical threats which exist in the world. Yes, you can burn an innocent, tear apart a wave of soldiers, but what of another mage? What of mages who are born outside the Circle and are free to study and learn ancient and forbidden arts of magic, having shields and defenses, or even blood magic? What of blood magic? Our Lyrium and Mana can give us magical talents to cast spells and engage in battle, or heal a friend. But blood magic is more powerful, more efficient, and can be replenished almost at will by very facts of biology. Lyrium, on the other hand, is often limited."

He let the comparison sink in.

"And what of demons?" He continued suddenly, snapping them back to it. "Many of them have powers we do not understand, many of them are immune to our most powerful of spells. Rage demons cannot be burned…what should a mage do who has only trained in fire?

"That is our objective here, to study over a thousand years of magical lore. From the Tevinter Imperium, to the Templar tactics on battling and neutralizing mages, from even many dissertations from Elves, and First Enchanters for generations. This, is our chance."

Several murmurs swept through the crowd they were not angry, but excited. Despite the pounding of his heart he had gotten the crowd on his side, and they were feeling quite composed, and even eager to get on with their lessons. Patricia even looked intrigued. After all, much of his statements were directed at them. They had not had time to learn many spells to defend themselves, or attack another. Many of them had not had the time to be dulled by one specific magical school.

"So, let's start with some basic combat spells. Knight Commander Huron has graciously decided to let us borrow some training dummies, and some Templars to help us set them up to practice on…"

The murmur that swept through the hall was this time chagrinned, more along the lines of _I am sure _then the bold excitement which had penetrated them up to this point.

"Alright, so we shall begin. Cast your basic school of magic, fire, telekinetic, or…anything of your choice. I want to gauge your skill, and then we can decide where to go from there."

The Templars came in, as if summoned by a magical signal, three groups of them, two of them carrying the training dummies, while another group was doing nothing but staring and watching the proceedings.

Ben frowned, _is that really necessary?_

But he said nothing. _I can hardly preach peace on the one hand and then jump down these people's throats the next_.

And there was not enough dummies to go around so that left some of the mages without. So they divided into groups, and started. Each of them combining their talents. One would set one of the straw dummies on fire, and the other one would put it out with an ice spell quelling them.

Ben started pacing and marching between the rows. Not making corrections or shouting encouragement, just watching, observing, and comparing his students with his own skill. _I almost feel like an imposter and a fraud, teaching, yet so young myself_. Despite his age, he did not feel welcome here.

The Templars retreated to the sides of the hall, many of them continued their vigil but most of them retreated back to the other rooms. After all, there were many other Mages to watch.

The progress looked good, most of the mages in this hall looked experienced, in their own ways. Some of them were able to cast some advanced spells. The elder mage was making a show of it off to one corner, the air around him positively crackled with energy.

A frustrated yell drew his attention his head whipping around, some of the Templars, their armor rippled, but they made no advance.

A young Elf was swinging his staff wildly, trying to coax a spark or flame from it, it would glow an angry red color, and then fade out.

Ben approached him, and circled him, coming around between him and the dummy. The Elf's brow was covered in sweat, he was breathing hard, and his face was twisted in slight fury, but Ben sensed mostly at himself.

"What is going on here?" Ben asked lightly.

"I can't get my flame to light…I did it last week in my class with Senior Enchanter Ebert, but I can't get it now."

"I see, Ben smiled, "There is nothing to be ashamed of, magic often takes practice, and it often takes a while to get even the simplest of spells."

"Yeah?!" The Elf demanded, "And what do you know about it?"

Ben smiled lost some of its warmth, but he kept it on, staring deep into the Elf's eyes, who did not flinch. He picked his staff up, slowly, and calmly, catching the eye of the Tempalrs looking at the display, most of them were more curious then threatened.

His staff came up in a great twirling spin, whistling through the air, he cracked it and a magical burst of energy slammed into the dummy with a great _boom_. The dummy was knocked over nearly, and started swinging around in its socket dramatically, like a particularly angry child had gotten a hold of a family rag doll and decided to take out their frustrations on it.

He looked back, and the Elf blanched up at him. "I am sorry, master mage…it's just…" He seemed at a loss for words.

"Its ok," Ben smiled, "I was young at one point too. A junior mage no younger then you are really. As you have noticed, I still am, with hard work, due diligence, and a willingness to pay attention, you will get there."

"But, if I cannot cast a simple flame then why me?"

The elder mage smiled, "because you are young, and can't cast a flame…you still have much to learn, and are eager and passionate to do so. You will be fine. Not broken by age, not thinking you know everything, or not still not wanting to."

"I see," The Elf nodded.

Ben left him there, and then walked back out over to the center of the room. Casting one last look at the Templars as he did so. They now were relaxed, some were even smiling at him with respect. Sounds of magical combat drew his attention behind and around him, his class was getting back to work.

He started looking around and continued marching, until he thought they had enough.


	3. The Great Bearded Man of the North

_Circle Tower_

The next several weeks passed in a whirlwind of activity for Benjamin Trevelyan. Perhaps the busiest time of his entire life. After his breakfast, the first meal of the day, it was right into the Great Hall with his class. Where they practiced their combat magic. Their staves and staffs spinning and whirling in the air. Electric energy crackling and nearly causing a ruckus sometimes. The Templars, ever vigilant, hardly left them alone. He even started to practice with the Templars. Leading from the front, volunteering himself. Allowing them to demonstrate their techniques on him, their anti-magical techniques, disrupting his mana and any of his shields or defenses. It was quite painful, yet he didn't feel he could trust one of his students with the assignment, and he had to lead by example.

After he and his students would wolf down a crowded lunch, they would go back to it. This time to the library and common rooms, reading up on any magical theory they could find. Huron had even requested they bring in several tomes from other Circles and places of Chantry scholarship. They took notes, occasionally wrote essays, and studied their tomes carefully and completely. Ben would occasionally make corrections and ask them questions. He didn't assign quizzes, he didn't believe in them, but he still kept them on their toes.

After dinner and the Chantry services he would go, personally, to the library himself. Reading hurriedly before lights out in his free time. Making sure he understood the concepts he was trying to teach his students. Learn, while he was trying to teach. _Oh the irony_.

But, in a way he preferred it this way, working as hard as he could. Idle hands were the demon's tools, after all.

Most of his students were showing improvement, though two of them had been flunked out. He did not like doing it, but he felt they did not have time to mess around.

The problem with practical tests, when it came with magic, however was that it was hard to practice without getting hurt. Without greatly wounding the other people who they were practicing on. The more esoteric the magic, the more dangerous it was to fellow human beings. That, and most high levels of magic risked tearing the Veil.

So, Ben only risked dueling with Templars. Leading from the front, as it were. Figuring the other students were too temperamental, too inexperienced, and that he needed to establish his own authority in the matter. So, he engaged Templars, senior members of the order. Engaging in combat with them. They used their magical disruption abilities on him, breaking through his shields, with great precision and care.

Usually he escaped with only scraped elbows and dirtied knees, but once in a while he suffered a bloody nose. The Templars being that good in the execution of their duty.

And so the weeks passed. So slowly his class was starting to take shape. So Knight Commander Huron's and his dream was almost realized of creating the first ever group of mages willing to join with the Templars and support them. Despite their reservations, many of them, they were apparently eager.

So the weeks passed.

After an especially long day Ben felt himself crawling up to the top of the tower. His bones aching, he leaned on his staff, it scuffling along the steps as he climbed ever upward.

Finally, he reached into the library, and started getting to work. Taking a sip of a health poultice and some bourbon to work out the kinks in his bones.

_That Knight Lieutenant seemed quite eager to throttle me…I may have to have a word…with someone_.

He began pouring over the tome he was currently engaged in battle with, was an interesting theory on summoning magical energy from the fade to use as a dangerous weapon.

A sudden burst of commotion drew his attention away from the manuscript, and towards the door. As he looked, a bouncing ball of energy came through the door. Patricia, looking no worse for wear. And filled with her usual…exuberance.

_Not like she had a life and death struggle with a Templar or anything_, Ben groused.

"Have you heard the news?!" She asked excitedly.

"No, what news?" Ben said lowly back at her.

She plopped herself in the seat across from him, and bounced in it dramatically. "The Circle of Magi…the College of Enchanters…apparently they are being allowed to meet. That is where First Enchanter Marchand went! Apparently."

This did catch Benjamin's attention, as he lifted a small eyebrow in curiosity. "Oh?" His eyes narrowed. "Who's your source?"

She waved her hands dismissively, "From one of the Senior Enchanters, who was at the sending."

"Right, and I am sure he heard it from the First Enchanter himself." Benjamin scoffed.

Though it was only half felt and halfhearted. A mere attempt to cover up his own gathering interest in the situation. _What if…?_

He knew that it had been…a while…since the College of Enchanters was allowed to meet. In Cumberland, in Val Royeux, in any such place from here to the Tevinter Imperium. If it was true then maybe they had a chance for real change. Maybe not the change he or Knight Commander Huron was looking for…but if it served to lesson tensions even a little bit…before things exploded into full out violence, then it could be worth it. Even if it bought them time. _If people are calm…maybe we can just solve it…reform the Circle…get things back to an even keel. Maybe we have a chance after all_.

Suddenly, from deep within the bowels of the tower he heard a deep echoing boom. He could barely make it out, but something had certainly drawn their attention.

Patricia looked down under her feet, "what the?"

Benjamin murmured his agreement back at her. Another small boom sounded.

"Come on, let's go." He said scraping his chair and getting up.

Patricia nodded and followed in his wake.

They slowly made their way down the long sloping stairs of the Circle Tower, ever down. The more they went, the more they seemed to hear an angry buzz of chatter below them. The louder it got. The angrier. Ben was prompted to increase his pace, fearing that something terrible was about to happen.

Finally, they arrived at the second floor of the tower. There was a small group of people gathered. _Two groups of people_ Ben realized as he got closer, onto their level. A small courtyard cut in the middle of the tower. Templars were facing off against mages, once more. The mages and their postures were angry, their shoulders hunched, the Templars were tense, and some of them were fingering their blades nervously.

"We demand to see the sending! We demand to speak to the First Enchanter! Or any Senior Enchanters in there now!" A Senior Enchanter was yelling, spittle flying from his face, his staff was glowing white, and even though it was now subdued Benjamin could just imagine that _he_ was the source of the booming.

The mages were gathering around him, letting him speak, but glaring blades at the Templars.

"Go back to your quarter's mage, this does not concern you." The Templar Lieutenant sneered.

"What is going on here?" Benjamin asked, cutting off the gathering protest of his senior.

The Senior Enchanter in question, _not one of the ones from my class_ rounded on Benjamin, his hand going down his staff. "We have a sending through the stones, First Enchanter Marchand went to go see to the College…and with the tension in the tower, and given the rumors floating about the College of Enchanters in Val Royeux, and we expected news. Instead nothing, nothing at all. No word from the First Enchanter and these," he waved his hand at the Knight Lieutenant, "won't let us go send a sending of our own, or see the mage that is in there currently."

"He could still be in consultation you know," Ben pointed out simply, Patricia stiffened next to him, but Ben ignored her.

"Then why won't they say that." The Senior Enchanter returned.

"Because it is none of your concern mage," The Knight Lieutenant cut in.

The Senior Enchanter growled, turning on the Knight Lieutenant, his chest puffing out as oxygen filled his lungs.

"There is no need for that," Benjamin said, "How about we all calm down. There is no need for violence…Lieutenant…please take us to see the Senior Enchanter in the sending room, this can still be solved without-"

A door slammed against the wall, opening, and the same door which led to the Seeing Hall one floor up. A young Elven boy sped out of it, a Templar crashing behind him.

"They've killed the First Enchanter! Help! They've killed the Enchanter! The seeing showed-"

"Apprentice stand down," The Knight Lieutenant challenged drawing his sword from its sheath, "You are ordered to-"

"THE SEEING SHOWED A MESSAGE, THE COLLEGE OF MAGI HAS VOTED FOR INDEPENDENCE!" The boy positively squealed, an angry murmur went through the assembled crowd.

"KILL HIM!" The Knight Lieutenant ordered.

"No!" The Senior Enchanter shouted, raising his hand off the staff with a backhand, icy energy hissed from it and the Knight Lieutenant hurled away from the blow.

Metallic grinding interrupted the brief silence as the rest of the Knights drew their swords from their sheaths and advanced boldly. They used their talents, bringing up their own particular ability to disrupt the flow of mana. But the mages outnumbered them and advanced boldly.

"Execute them! Any Mage who resists, kill them all! Find Knight Commander Huron!" The Lieutenant spat.

Instantly arrows crashed through the air, from behind. Benjamin dove out of the way and looked up. Templar archers took up position on the further floors of the tower from behind and were raining fire down on them.

A shaft struck through the neck of a young mage woman, she clutched at it as it went straight through, blood gurgled in her mouth, and she collapsed on her knees.

Patricia came to his side and grabbed him around his shoulders, starting to heave him up.

"Come! Benjamin, get up!"

Together they finally managed to scramble off to the side of the room. The mages were finally starting to put up a struggle. Magical shields shimmered, bolts of lightning and balls of ice flashed, and the room had an increasing magical buzz about it.

"We have to help them," Patricia said summoning a ball of fire to her hand.

"No," Ben said grabbing her hand, letting the flame fizzle out. "The best thing we can do is warn the rest of the tower. Try getting to the other mages and getting them out of here while we still can."

"You think they needed warning after all this?" Patricia asked waving her hand around, a solid boom punctuating her point.

"They still might need freeing from the Templars!" Ben shouted in her face, a spike of annoyance rolling through him.

"Oh so now you want to fight?" She asked in his face.

"They have left us little choice, fight, die, or submit. And I do not think submission will get us very far at this point. Even with Knight Commander Huron in charge."

"Fine," She said, the sounds of battle were growing ever closer.

"You take the apprentices I'll gather the Junior Enchanters."

She nodded. And they both moved. Starting down the steps. Patricia continued darting through one of the trap doors to the lower dungeons, of the subbasement. Benjamin frowned at the sudden thought, _yes, keep small children in the dungeons…even a moderate Knight Commander allows this. Maker help us all._

But they had no time for philosophy as Ben continued along the second floor to the quarters of some of Junior Enchanters. Of course, they had a lot of the rest of the lower parts of the tower were occupied with them.

A young Templar suddenly darted in front of him, barring his path. The young woman drew a sword rapidly and advanced, Ben brought his staff around and smacked it over her head. The magic in it flung her to the side.

Now, he wondered what he was going to do _next_. Knocking on all the doors would take too much time.

Suddenly, the thought occurred to him. _I am a mage, let me do magic_.

His staff flashed white, and he slammed it on the ground, three times, each time sending out a shockwave of energy which boomed down the hall and rattled the stone masonry and the doors.

"The Templars have declared the Right of Annulment!" He said. "Mages, we must flee! Now!" His voice boomed.

Doors slammed open against walls all along the corridor. Mages in various states of dress and readiness poured out of them. Some were panicked, others were calm. A few of them even had staffs looking as though they were expecting this very announcement.

"Come on, we don't have time for this, get as many belongings you can get quickly, and flee!"

The men women, and Elves, the few who still needed their staffs, or to finish dressing disappeared into their rooms. The rest, started heading in the other direction. Ben could hear a trampling of feet behind him in the corridor beyond.

"Hurry!" He shouted, drawing his staff across his chest in a defensive maneuver.

More of the mages he could tell, were running out of their rooms, trying to get out of the tower, either down the stairs to the main entrance, or through some other means.

A Templar flew around the corner, and drew his knife quickly, advancing boldly. Ben twirled his staff around and across his body, his staff crackled with energy, and unleashed a blue bolt of arcane energy at the Templar.

The Warrior's armor held up to the assault, it crackled, but it was just enough to knock him out of the fight.

Satisfied that his immediate job was done, he clinched his staff, spun around, and joined the rest of the fleeing mages. Not intending to win, just fight hard enough to escape.

After several seconds found himself out in the sunlight. Someone had blasted the front door off its hinges, perhaps a great many someone's. And the fight now continuing in the foyer of the tower was ignored by Benjamin. Mages could make their decisions well known, but his duty was clear. _Escape, live another day._

Though he was impressed with how well the mages were conducting themselves in the battle, and holding up to the Templars. Masses of them were continuing their fight, and they were holding on. _I wonder if any of my classes have done any good_. Ben thought happily. Only tales he heard of the strongest of blood mages could match the effort the mages were putting up against their oppressors. _But it was not enough, we will lose soon_. Ben thought grimly.

The outer courtyard of the Tower was in just as much desperate straits. The younger apprentices and enchanters were busy fleeing as fast as they could, with their scant few possessions, towards the safety of the surrounding area, some of them were almost past the first guard shack. The older Enchanters, roughly anyone over the age of twenty five, were holding their own, forming around the perimeter, trying to keep their Templar opponents at bay.

Ben couldn't help but be surprised though, as over the Horizon, more Templars were coming, rushing in full battle armor in their own semi-circle to cut off those fleeing. _I've never seen so many Templars in my life_, Ben thought. Then he realized that they were expecting trouble, and must have called in for reinforcements in case something like this happened. Ben didn't know who to blame but a brief shutter of rage took purchase in his heart. He tried to keep it down, not wanting that rage to lead him to something…terrible.

Magic flashed, arrows whistled, and the sounds of metal and crunching dominated the surrounding area.

Benjamin groaned.

His eyes were drawn to the fighting between a small knot of mages and a group of Templars advancing on them. Patricia was back peddling ahead of them, a cadre of mage apprentices cowered in her wake. Trapped, cornered. Patricia held her staff, it shimmered, and an energy shield held up against them. Her head was streaming sweat, showing her weakness, and the shield looked weak. Yet she held herself straight, and boldly defended her charges.

It was a simple, meaningless gesture.

The Templars were already channeling their power to their swords, preparing to shatter her shields. Break her defenses.

"No! Patricia!" Ben shouted, staff coming up, he ran to meet them head on.

Two Templars intercepted him in the middle, their own swords flashing in the sunlight.

Ben swung his staff around in a twirl, holding it out straight it knocked one of the Templars aside with a boom of magical energy. Ben rotated his body, spinning around, holding the staff as a bat and slamming it into the face of the other Templar soldier with a _crack_, he was intercepted and spun down on the ground. They were both moaning and rolling.

Ben rushed forward, lungs burning, sweat pouring off of him in waves. The magical effort he put up over the last several minutes, combined with the physical exertions was enough to make him feel _very_ tired. Everything to this point was theory, and while all of his Enchanters said he had tremendous raw magical potential, Ben didn't practice, didn't exercise those talents, sticking to theory instead of actual activities. Even with his class it was under carefully controlled, and manageable conditions, where he usually watched.

Benjamin Trevelyan had to reach his friend, had to get her out of the combat zone. If no else. So despite his feelings, and the weakness of his talents and his body, he still rushed forward, baring his staff. Patricia had fallen, her shield was down, and she was sprawled out before her attackers. Without seeking the least bit of mercy, the Templar was about to strike her down.

"No!" Ben shouted again.

He held his hand out, knuckles curling around one another, and the three Templars flew up into the air…and then slammed into the ground. Moaning once more and rolling. Clearly disabled.

He breathed, catching his breath, and moved over to the fallen Patricia. Some of the other apprentices were also helping her up, while others were already fleeing.

Crashing next to her Benjamin Trevelyan held her by her shoulders, her heaving shoulders as she gasped for breath.

"Are you ok?" He asked.

"Yes…I…am…thank you." She mumbled at him.

"Come on, let's get you up." He smiled. Heaving her up onto her feet.

"We need to…make sure…we get…the apprentices…out of here." She said the last in a rush, gasping, trying to get through the sentence.

"We need to do no such thing, you are exhausted and you still need to get out of here yourself." Off of her look, "You are no good to anyone dead! Now come on!"

She nodded, clutching her staff she started to move in the opposite direction.

Benjamin stayed for a few moments, covering them. He felt he still had enough magical reserve to hold, Patricia, didn't.

He started to move, back peddling, then yelped as something struck the side of his head.

He whirled around to see Knight Commander Huron approaching him, sword drawn, boldly.

"Benjamin," He said, "you can't do this. We need to restore order."

His eyes darted to the blade of the Knight Commander, there was blood there, he snarled.

"I had no choice, one of your students attacked me as I was trying to restrain my Templars, I reacted. I tried to be gentle, then one of my Lieutenants killed the mage responsible."

"I see this is the dream of Templar order," Benjamin spat, "was it all a lie?"

Huron's eyes widened, he sighed, "No, none of it was a lie. I wanted to establish a new order…and it can still happen. As long as you come back, and the rest of the Enchanters who have not escaped…"

"It is too late for that!" Ben sighed. "As much as I might want to the situation has clearly gone beyond both of our control."

Huron sighed, the gesture seemed to deflate him. "Alright…I see." He dropped his sword to his side. "Just make it look good, ok?"

Ben's eyes widened, understanding the Templar's purpose. "OK." He said simply.

He summoned one last burst of his mana, and held his palm straight out, with a cry of surprise the Knight Commander flew back, and landed on the ground with a metallic crash several feet away.

Ben, breathing heavily, started moving for the forest in the distance. Somehow, he made it.


	4. The Revolution

_Somewhere in Nevarra_

Benjamin's eyes shot open, rapidly blinking them. Suddenly he was awake, his senses slamming into him, causing him to groan due to his aching back. _My incredibly painful aching back_ Ben thought upon further reflection.

He had spent one too many nights on the bare and open ground, in the middle of nowhere. Perhaps about a week in all, for his current mission. Ever since that family had discovered him squatting in the middle of their barn. He decided to not try his luck and fled before the Templars arrived.

What was worse, winter was setting in. The winter of 9:42 Dragon. His second full year on the run. _How I have survived this long is some kind of Maker given Miracle_. Since the day he fled from the Circle in Nevarra, all those years ago, he had spent it on the run. Trying to stay away from the main compounds for the rebels, he had heard the rumors the same as everyone else. But fighting, did not seem the best activity for his state of mind. So, he spent most of his time in the North. Nevarra, Rivain, the Andefels…but ignored the Tevinter Imperium, he even crossed across Orlais for about a week on his way…to where he was currently.

The rebellion had been rough on him. The Circle, for all its many faults, was safe and secure. He could usually get three square meals a day, and acted like a pampered academic.

_Yet I have survived_, he thought with a small jolt of pleasurable pride. Despite the odds, he was still alive to…_worry about my back hurting and where my next meal is coming from_, he groused, frowining.

Now he darted up, looking for what had woken him up in the first place. But not seeing anything he frowned, his brow furrowing deep in thought. _If a threat or noise did not wake me up…then_… He rifled through his memory and slowly, the first shards of the dream came to him. It was a nightmare, he was being chased, then a green flash of light rushed towards him, he felt panicked…then he woke up. But as with most dreams, he was vague and uncertain…and shaken.

It felt as though something were coming, as if something really was rushing towards him. The green flash, was legitimate.

He frowned, pondering the thought.

But, he had work to do. It had only been a couple of days since the farm, and so he was relatively close, the Templars could be down on him at any moment. He grapped his staff on the bedroll next to him, and checked his magical defenses he put at the edge of camp. Nothing too sophisticated, just enough to warn him if someone entered his sanctum. _And they are still intact_.

Satisfied, he turned around and scooped over his fire. Preparing the few steps of bacon he procured from a small village just a few miles away.

It rapidly burned, and he placed it on his plate, and started munching on them gingerly.

"Hey!" Someone shouted behind him jumping out of the shadows.

He choked on his last strip of bacon, whirled around reaching for his staff, and blinked. He was face to face with Patricia.

Granted she was dirtier, there was a scuff of mud along one cheek and her hair was in some knots…with a leaf in it. Her face looked thiner, more gaunt, her hair more gray then black. But, it was definitely her. And he had not seen her since that faithful day two years ago.

"Ben," She smiled timidly, "you look rough."

He ran his hands through his thick and wild beard, he had not had a shave or a trim, or even put any water in it, for months. It had grown quite wild in that time, sticking out in a frizzy mess.

"You should talk," he grunted at her.

"I," She jutted her finger into her chest, "am a paragon of health." She grinned. "It is good to see you again."

"You too." He nodded, and then gestured to his campsite, "I would offer you some bacon but I just ate the last of it."

"No need," She waved dismissively, "in fact I just ate myself."

Ben cocked his eyebrow at her.

"But…first…how are you Ben?"

He grunted, "surviving, as best I can. Hiding where I can, taking the open road, living a day at a time. And you?"

She laughed, "I was like that for a while. Until I ran into a group of rebels…and they took me in."

"You've joined the rebels?" Ben asked, scowling deeply.

His expression and his word choice gave her pause, the smile weakened just a little. She stared at him quietly for several minutes.

"They are doing good work for mages, things need to change…if anything the events at the Circle Tower should have proven that."

"I know things need to change, but is anyone considering what we will do with our freedom after we get it? What is the grand plan on how we will actually improve things for all the peoples of Thedas? Huron had a plan, and now we are on the run."

"So it was the wrong plan," Patricia argued emphatically.

"Perhaps…" Ben smiled at her, "but it sounded good. And, it's a lot more then the rebels have."

"And how would you know if you have been hiding, since you so obviously have? What is your plan Benjamin?" Patricia asked, again softening.

_Good point_. Ben thought, again scowling.

"Fiona is not evil Ben, and she does have a plan, at least for the short term…"

"But no one is planning for the long term!" He snapped, his stomach rumbling.

"Neither are you," She said, again not hostily.

"I know, I know…so what is this grand plan?"

She snorted, "Well freedom for the mages, to break free from the Chantry once and for all, accommodate the Templars."

Ben snorted.

"To that end, the rumors have it, and the fact of the matter is, the Divine is trying to host a peace summit between the two warring sides. Somewhere in Ferelden, that is the rumor, and Fiona believes it is genuine. Apparently Justinia helped us out during the initial rebellion in Val Royeux. And so, she might meet. Though, I doubt Fiona is foolish enough to go herself, she has sent many mages to look for other mages and begin spreading the word. Drag them in out of the cold, as it were."

Benjamin frowned, "And what of the rumors of what is happening in the Hinterlands in Ferelden?"

Patricia diverted her eyes, they grew unfocused as she looked into the distance. Deep in thought. "Not all mages are apart of the rebels, officially…" She started, and then smiled at him wryly, "and not all chose to stay on the run, hiding in the shadows, hoping to never get noticed."

Ben let her have her joke.

"Some, have taken a more proactive stance to survive, doing whatever it takes…simply to survive. Maybe one of the reasons this needs to stop."

"Maybe one of the reasons we never should have started in the first place," Benjamin remarked mumbling, drawing a glare from Patricia.

He sighed, "I am sorry, I do not mean to sound…so bitter. Just, things were stable under the Circle…well much more stable then they are now. And-"

"The Circle was a Prison!" She spat.

"I know that," He said, "I _know_ the conditions were intolerable, I _know_ we were living under the Templar whims and their sufferance. I _know_ they could have declared the Right of Anuulment on a whim, and then let the Divine figure out who was who and who was where. I _know_ we were little better then guests of the Chantry's benovlece. But…"

"But?"

"But we were safe. Turning to violence and escalating the situation has done no one good. How many people have turned to Blood Magic because of the war? How many people have succumbed to their rage…or their desires, or their pride?" He sniffed. "I can hear them you know, calling to me, especially when I sleep somewhere the Veil is thin. When I am the most hungry, all I want is a fresh steak, or some eggs. It is then, they call. How many innocent lives have we killed since this rebellion has begun?"

She stared at him, silently, probing.

"I don't agree with the Templars, or Chantry doctrine when it comes to the Circles, but slowly more and more was the situation changing. More Templars in prominent positions are beginning to question with boldness their ideologies and advocating for change. You even said so yourself, Divine Justinia _helped_ us. We could have had peaceful, passive, reform. Instead the situation escalated and violence happened, instead we are fighting a Civil War."

"Do you really think that the Lord Seeker, Lambert, would have just let us go? He is just as responsible for this as we are. He did not want reform, and I have heard some very nasty rumors about him since then."

"I know," Ben shrugged, and sighed, "Maybe there truly is no solution to this problem. But violence is not the answer."

"Then come Ben," She said, "Come help me find this conference and lets put an end to this, together."

He smirked, "You certainly know how to cheer me up don't you?"

She smiled, warmly, "You may not have been the best friend to me, we may not have known each other that long, but I do believe I got to know you, all those years ago. In Nevarra."

He nodded, "Fine, I understand, but we really need to gather supplies for our long journey, and it has been a long journey. I could use the break, and to catch up with my old friend…despite my grouchiness it is very good to see you again Patricia."

She nodded simply, "And it is good to see you again."

"What is Fiona like?" He probed.

"She is…Imperius, grand." Patricia looked distant again, thistime with a smile on her face. "She knows things, seen the world. Everything you would imagine from a former Grey Warden. Powerful, carries herself with authority, and she knows what she wants from herself, her fellow mages…but the future."

"You areally admire her?"

"If anyone can lead mages into a bold new era she can," Patricia nodded, then craned back in her seat relaxed.

"I hope you're right," Ben said, deciding not to press the issue any further. "And so what is your role in this grand rebellion then?"

"I am just a minor functionary, a messenger girl in all actuality. Not apart of her inner council or anything dramatic. Just a foot soldier."

"Hmmm, how have the years been treating you?"

"Pretty good, it was rough for a while after we decided to separate but I eventually found myself in with a group of rebel mages, most of them from the Nevarran Circle actually, some of them from your class. Together we traveled South where, eventually, we ran into Fiona. I have been running with them ever since. Haven't killed…many people. Actually. Its been rough, I will admit…I just hope its worth it in the end."

Ben nodded, "I am sure it will be." He clapped his hands together and got up, he offered his hand. "Come now, there is a village not far from here, and while I hope you have money we need food if we are going to be traveling all the way south to Ferelden, and I need a shave."

She snorted. "Come now, to food and shave."

He nodded. And together, the two of them headed down into the valley. Down the paths. Ben slightly hobbiling, Patricia almost bounding, then shooting her companion guilty looks and slowing in step with him, only to repeat the process a few minutes later.

But Ben was enjoying the walk, and the company. His first regular human contact, for a man who was avoiding human contact, even the company of his fellow mages for years.

This was going to be the beginning of a long journey. A long infinitely complex journey. An intimate journey. _Maker willing I will get through it_.

But as the village came into sight, he couldn't help but feel a nervous glob of spittle develop in his mouth. Something was coming for him, _I know it_.


	5. The Beginning of the Journey

_Just outside of Haven_

Benjamin Trevelyan kept his horse in line with Patricia's as they both rode up a slight hill. The young mare, if nothing else, seemed to be enjoying the exercise. From being cooped up for weeks, to being able to run all the way from Northern Ferelden to its South Western border. A little out of the way _hamlet_ in the middle of nowhere. So isolated that it had been centuries before anyone had come across it. Until the Hero of Ferelden, that was.

Their journey from Nevarra was a long, though unproductive one. It had been almost a month since Patricia ran head long into his camp. Slowly, but surely, they made their way almost due south. Until they crossed the border into Ferelden, and, as luck would have it, ran into a group of rebel mages personally loyal to Fiona herself.

Though Ben was still _uncomfortable_ about the situation and the existence of the rebels he had to admit they were perhaps more _organized_ then he originally gave them credit for. And organization indicated structure, structures indicated plans.

_Not that people with plans always make the best plans_. He frowned in thought. _The Tevinter Magisters had plans too._

But, at least the company was pleasant. And, at least they had made a rapid pace as soon as they reached Ferelden, down through to where they were currently.

"And there it is," Patricia announced snapping Ben out of his reverie.

They had, quite without him realizing it, had crested the hill. They were now overlooking Haven, perched atop its hill, the town's chantry perched above it, and somewhere beyond it was the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

It was small, and unimpressive given the history and the importance of the place, but what _was_ impressive was the seeming counter town that had sprung up on the approaches. Groups and knots from over a dozen major countries and organizations, hundreds of people. Haven was now a major economic center in the region.

Not an unimportant hole in the wall town of radicals, but maybe important in determining generations of the future of Thedas.

_Though it looks like not everyone here is an official business,_ Ben thought looking at a small knot of people with hoods, men, women, some with rather large and untidy beards, some of them cackling.

He tugged at his own beard, and Patricia followed his pulling.

"Nice beard, by the way." She said.

He smiled. He was able to obtain a trim shortly after crossing into Ferelden, and get it cleaned. Instead of a deep brown of sludge and dirt, it was back to his normal sandy color, and closely kept to his chin. Looking quite neat.

"Thank you," He acknowledged, "And that is certainly a…impressive sight isn't it?"

She nodded, "Sure," She waved almost dismissively, "but it is just a veneer. A Chantry veneer."

Ben sighed, and smirked whimsically, "I thought you liked the Chantry leadership in this case?"

She shrugged, "They have a lot of history to make up for, one Divine helping us…secretly…is not going to make up for centuries of abuse."

Ben sighed, "Right, continue to hold grudges for battles fought decades and centuries before we were born? That seems…wise." He leaned over and patted his horse on the back. "Come on, let's go."

The horses broke out into a small trot. _I like her…but_. But she was a bit acerbic on a great many subjects. Centuries of abuse had taken its toll on certain people. Though Ben could only consider what had happened to _him_, some people could feel the weight of their collective histories weighing them down through the eons. They could feel the pain of _their people_. And while Ben sympathized, while Ben styled himself a historian, he preferred learning from the past as a guide to build the future.

_Hopefully, finally, this will be the beginning of a new history_. Ben thought.

"So tell me, honestly, do you really think this conclave will work?" Ben asked Patricia.

She frowned, "I hope so," She sighed, "but it seems most of the major players aren't here. And I do not trust…the people who aren't here to not live up to their word when we finally do make it out of here. The only person of real consequence who was at this meeting is Divine Justinia. Which," She smiled, "makes all of this seem rather… desperate? Pointless. All this pointless posturing and gathering of so many people for something which, can, at best, be just a beginning. Nothing will be solved here."

Ben smirked, "That is grim…but surprisingly astute."

She shrugged at him playfully, "I suppose you are finally rubbing off on me."

He smiled, then frowned, "still if this is a beginning then maybe it will be worth it after all. The beginning of peace. If nothing happens here maybe it will convince both sides that they can trust each other to build a new world."

She nodded, as they continued to ride down in silence for a number of moments. They were slowly passing what looked like a beggar woman.

Suddenly she turned on them, her eyes wild looking. "It comes! The beginning! But an end! They come! The sacrifice is laid bare, and is in position! And they come to open the sky! And with it bring about a new age!"

The horses bucked slightly and whickered nervously. Ben and Patricia cooed at them trying to calm the two steeds.

"Hush, it is ok." Ben turned back towards the woman, hand still on its flank, "What is coming old woman?"

"They are…they are."

"Who is they?!" Ben demanded, almost feeling like he was going to jump off the horse and going towards her, without realizing it he was half way out of the saddle.

"Come on Ben," Patricia said laying a hand on his arm. "She's not worth it, just a deranged old woman."

"Right," He grumbled to himself, then shook himself clear. "You're right, let's go."

But yet, he couldn't help hear the words rolling around in his head, _and they come to open the sky_. It chilled him to the bone.

But they were now on the opposite slope of the mountain, able to look down at Haven and the sprawling encampment in front of him. The snow drifts. The many flags and knots of people leading up to the town. Templars, Mages, and representatives of almost every major nation in Thedas.

Ben felt something catch in his throat, he recognized one of the flags. Of the House of Trevelyan. He was a Trevelyan, once, a long time ago before his magic was discovered and he was spirited away to the Circle in the dead of night. _I wonder if my sister is there, I remember liking her…though I wonder if she has changed and has become as distrustful of mages as most people seem to be_.

"Ben?" Patricia asked.

He shook his head, clearing it, and smiled up at her, "nothing my dear, come on, let's go, we have a lot to do, I suppose."

After about another hour later they were crawling up the slope towards the 'mage encampment.'

Some of the mages looked at them curiously, on horses. Their staves were plastered to their back though making it clear they were not a threat to anyone. They were in fact a member of the 'good guys' a pair of people with the good blood, the blood of magic.

They went over to a small ring of horses, and they dismounted, tying them to a post.

"Ah, home sweet home." Patricia exclaimed clapping her hands together dramatically, and with great joy.

Ben looked around and couldn't help but grin himself, "I haven't seen this many mages since the Circle…perhaps ever. It feels good to be back…and surrounded by friends. If nothing else, thank you for finding me."

"You are welcome Ben," She nodded.

The two of them shared a moment, but only a moment, as suddenly a voice broke out over the air.

"Is that who I think it…Ben! Patricia! It is good to see you two! I knew it was you."

The two of them whirled around on the voice, and smiled.

"First Enchanter Marchand." Patricia smiled warmly.

He joined them, and smirked grimly. "'First Enchanter' is not exactly my proper title now, I am just Mage Marchand…not even a senior member of a fraternity, or too important in the Rebellion, though maybe I am one of the most senior members _here_."

"You don't sound happy," Benjamin commented.

Marchand frowned for a second, and then shook his head. "No, I am not. In truth I am uneasy about this conclave…not the idea itself mind you…but the numbers. Many people have gathered here, tourists, onlookers, and concerned members of governments and the two warring organizations who actually belong here. But despite the leaders of the war not showing up, there are dozens…perhaps hundreds…of mages. The whole thing makes me…uneasy. We are a perfect target."

"But who would attack us?" Patricia asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I don't know," Marchand shrugged, "even then, all these mages and Templars in the same place…even the civilian's. It's begging for a powder keg. Just waiting for a spark."

Ben put a hand to his lips and thought, "Sounds like you aren't exactly in favor of the rebellion."

Marchand scowled, "I wasn't, but I am now. The Templars proved themselves they were beyond the pale. Once and for all. They proved that they cannot coexist with us without them abusing their privilege." He shook his head. "But this many of us, in one place? It seems a nightmare is waiting to happen. For a place, to happen."

Benjamin felt a small shiver creep up his spine at his words. "Is everyone here?" He asked.

Marchand scowl deepened. "Yes, everyone who is coming. Despite my reservations it seems…odd that Fiona isn't here personally. The Lord Seeker isn't either. The only one with any real leadership potential is the Divine. Which means, nothing is going to be solved here…should make me less nervous but…I don't know. I would feel better if we can get someone here to know something and solve the problem. Instead, this will just be a preliminary. Makes all this," He gestured around him, indicating the surrounding tents and groups of people, "Seem all that more…dangerous. And for no real purpose."

"You're worrying for nothing," Patricia smiled assuring.

_I wouldn't be sure of that_. Ben thought.

"Come on, I'll show you around." Ben said taking them both around the shoulder and guiding them further into the encampment.

_Further to my destiny_. Ben thought.

**Notes**:

Well, this has been a long time coming and I am officially wrapping this up. This is perhaps my most buggy fan fiction to date which, saddens me. Posted it in the wrong order, wrong chapter names on places…oops. And I did not even notice until weeks later. So that was one of the reasons I have not finished it until now, almost a month after release, a prequel, hence compounding the error. Also, I notice in editing my latest chapter, this chapter, the last chapter, that some of the events no longer coincide with Inquisition proper…oh thee well.

Do enjoy and review anyways.


End file.
